


Alone with a memory

by wepaytheprice



Category: Inception
Genre: Canon Typical Violence, Dreamsharing, F/M, First Kiss, First Meeting, Gunshot Wounds, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Near Death Experiences, No Beta read we die like men, Young Arthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:54:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26109019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wepaytheprice/pseuds/wepaytheprice
Summary: From the first meeting, to the jobs, to a near death experience, he’s always had Eames.
Relationships: Arthur/Eames
Comments: 1
Kudos: 26





	Alone with a memory

Arthur was nineteen the first time he met Eames. His hair was long, but kept nicely, usually in a bun or ponytail. Dom and Mal found him as he applied for an internship at a dream-sharing company in the states. They noticed his meticulous methods of research, as well as his intellectual prowess. The Cobbs asked him to be their point man, which meant lots of research and weapons training. He agreed happily and quickly began working with the couple. About a year later, he met Eames. He didn’t know what a forger was at the time, but he was soon to be amazed.

“Arthur, I’d like you to meet Mister Eames,” Mal introduced. “Eames, this is our point man Arthur.”  
He flashed a suave smiled and extended his hand, “Pleasure to meet you, Arthur.” His thick London accent curled around each word like a cat.   
“The pleasures all mine Mr. Eames,” He replied as he took his hand, “I’ve heard so much about you from Dom and Mal.”  
“Oh, you have, have you? Do tell me Arthur, did they tell you about my devilish good looks?”  
“Well no,” he said simply, “it’s probably cause they’re not a fan of lying.”

All the British man could do was laugh and a light clap on the back. Arthur cocked an eyebrow, but grinned politely in return. They were going to be good friends eventually, he knew that was well as he knew anything. 

A few years passed and the two men had grown closer as they worked job after job together. It was risky business getting close to someone in their line of work, but they didn’t care. They were magnetic, easily brought together but hard to pull apart. It was on a routine job when Mal approached the group of them with an idea. She held up a small silver top, tiny enough to be inconspicuous, but strange enough to be recognizable.

“This is a totem,” she showed it to her team, “its a way for us to see if we are still dreaming or not.”  
“How is that possible?” Eames asked, his legs neatly crossed  
“In the dream world,” Mal continued as she spun the top on a nearby table, “the top never stops spinning. I want each of you to find your totem in case the lines of reality get blurred.”

Arthur glanced over at his newfound companion and wondered if he had experienced something similar. If he didn’t know if he were awake or asleep; if he felt the anxiety of not knowing what was real or what was fake. A totem was a smart way to keep everything in line, he just didn’t know where to find one. 

Suddenly, Eames leaned into him and whispered, “There’s a casino down the road, would you like to go with me later on tonight?”  
Arthur felt himself blush, “yeah, I’d like to.”  
“Fantastic,” he chirped, “I’ll wait for you after we finish up here darling.”

Darling  
Oh god

He felt hot suddenly like it was a scorching hot day in the southern united states. Arthur wasn’t extremely emotional, but he felt a kaleidoscopic supernova of tender feelings grow, split, and multiplies through him at rapid speed. Alone with Eames, something he wished to do for a long time now and never had the balls to ask. Now here he was, Mal’s voice droning on in the background but his mind on the forger beside him. He couldn’t wait for nightfall, and when it came the sweet anxiety bubbled and fizzed inside him.

The Casino was loud and packed with drunkards and rich men. Then there was Eames, who seemed to be a mixture of both. He had managed to build up quite an amount of poker chips over a variety of card games and bets. Arthur hovered over his should as Eames continued to make a decent amount of money from a game of Dice Hold’em. The point man was fond of patterns, as well as Eames, so being around both was very exciting. 

Mr. Eames held up a pair of dice to Arthur, “blow for luck pet.”  
Arthur felt the oxygen get stuck in his lungs, but he managed to blow on them anyway.

He rolled the dice and landed just the right numbers to get a jackpot. Surprise filled Arthur’s body, while satisfaction filled Eames. He smiled up at the younger man with a pure emotion he didn’t recognize, but he could call it fondness. The dealer swiped up the dice before the forger could roll again and stood up violently. 

“These dice are loaded!” she screamed.  
“Fuck,” Eames grabbed the dice from her hand, and took Arthur by the hand, “Run like hell!”

Both men took off running through the casino, dodging security and jilted rich man left and right. Eventually, they got out into the street and ducked into the nearest alleyway they could find. 

“Fucking loaded dice,” Arthur huffed, “why on earth would you use loaded dice?”  
“I wanted to win,” he quipped.

The two men laughed breathlessly as they leaned against the wall of some random building. Eames had stars in his eyes from their fruitless venture, and Arthur had a new sense of comradery for the forger he worked so closely with. He reached into his pocket and pulled out one poker chip, the name of the casino had been rubbed off. 

“Here,” Arthur handed it to him, “got you a present.”  
Eames chuckled, “you cheeky bastard.”  
He reached inside his own pocket and handed him the loaded die.  
“Now you have a totem,” he smiled, “use it wisely.”  
“I could say the same to you.”

Time flew by again, Mal died and Dom was on the run and took Arthur with him. Eames didn’t like that Cobb kept throwing him into danger when there was no need to. However, it was his choice to go with him, and he hated that passionately. He’d do anything for Cobb, he’s practically known him since he was a high school student. 

When they worked their next job after Mal passed, Arthur was different. He pushed Eames away, pushed everyone away. He constantly looked over his shoulder and rolled his die in his hand frequently. The target was under already, he was going to keep watch as Cobb and the forger dreamt. Out of habit, Arthur hooked up Eames to the PASIV, even though he didn’t need too.

“Ah darling,” he quipped, “I didn’t know you still cared.”  
“Don’t miss the kick, Mr. Eames.”  
“Mister?” His blue-gray eyes stared into his dark brown, “I thought we were passed the formalities.”  
“Don’t want to risk it,” Arthur replied.

Before he could ask another question, he was already asleep. Arthur watched vigilantly over his companions and the building they were hiding out in. He made several rounds around the warehouse, gun in hand, finger just above the trigger. The timer on the PASIV slowly winded down as the group dreamt. Suddenly, he heard a car pull up, and heard voices and the clacking of heavy guns. 

“Shit!”

Quick as a whip, he tipped Cobb’s chair, then Eames. Both woke up with irritation and concern but Arthur didn’t give them the time to ask question. He cocked his gun and stood by the entrance, both of the dreamers collected themselves and scorweered for their weapons. The door burst it and immediately Arthur stuck the gun underneath the invaders jaw and fired. Cobb reached for his gun and shot one in the head while his attention was turned towards the point man. Eames decided to rush the last one standing and had him against the wall in seconds flat. However, the intruder easily overpowered him and knocked him to the ground. The intruder cocked his gun and aimed it at the fallen forger. 

“Eames!” Arthur shouted.

The point man gripped the barrel of the gun and pointed it away from his friend. Unfortunately for him, he had it aimed to his stomach when the person shot. 

Everything seemed to move in slow motion. The bullet lodged itself inside his abdomen, each of his body parts recoiled from the pain as he fell to the ground. Eames’ eyes never left his body even as it collapsed on the floor. Another bullet fired and struck the killer in the head, the blood splattered against the wall along with bits of brain and sninew. 

“Arthur!” He cried as he crawled over to his friend, “why the fuck would you do that?!”  
“I-” he spluttered, “I didn’t want to loose you....like Dom..with Mal.”  
“Well did you ever think that I don’t want to lose you? Huh? Cause I really love you Arthur even if you are a stupid bastard.”  
“You love me?”  
“Of course I do you American prick,” Eames barked.  
“I..loved you..” Arthur smiled half heartedly, “since the..start.”

Arthur slipped his hand in his pocket and pulled out the loaded die. 

“You’ve always been..my tie to reality..Eames.”  
Eames pulled out the poker chip, tears in his eyes.  
“Me too, darling.” 

Slowly, Arthur closed his eyes, and Eames cupped his face as he tried to hold back the tears.

“Don’t die on me Arthur,” he muttered, “if you live, we’ll go to Spain. Stay in a nice hotel, I’ll tell you everything you’d like to know about me. You just have to live my love.”  
“Anything for you.”

Cobb rushed over and scooped the youngest of the group off the floor. Eames stood up in protest but was silenced by Dom.

“I’ll take him to a hospital, you need to get the hell out of town.” He rushed out the building, the forger hot on his heels.  
“Tell Arthur to meet me in Barcalona, okay?”  
“I will.” 

\----

Weeks passed by and Eames sat anxiously in a ritzy hotel in Europe. He hasn’t heard from Arthur since the incident at the warehouse, and he feared the worst. After everything they went through, he couldn’t lose him now. They had done 234 jobs, spent more than 3 years together in the real world and an intaluable amount of time in the dream world. The anxiety swirled in his heart at the thought of losing someone he loved. It wasn’t easy for him do so, especially in his line of work, people were known to be fakes. 

Knock knock

Who the fuck  
Eames tentively approached the door, pistol in hand, the cock pulled back. He looked through the peep hole and caught a glimps of dark, slicked back hair. Without hesitation he put down his gun and opened the door.

“Arthur!”  
“Eames,” the younger chirped, “I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

Swiftly, Eames pulled him inside and locked the door. Then turned to look as his friend who’d been missing for quite some time. He was perfectly fine, his hair was meticulously done, his cream colored suit was neatly pressed and taliored to his body type, and last but not least, he was smiling. It was a genuine, friendly smile, and his left eyebrow was cocked in the way it usually was whenever he was around Eames. 

“You’re alive.”  
“Obviously,” he rolled his eyes, “Cobb wouldn’t tell me where you were, but as you know, I’m a terrific point man.”  
“You’re the best in the business,” Eames replied, “even though you have no imagination.”  
“I’ve been searching for you for weeks and you’re going to insult me? Cause I can take my things and leave.”  
“Please don’t”

He pulled Arthur closer, their noses practically touched. Eames’ eyes flicked between his lips and his cherry wood eyes. 

“Say it.”  
“Say what?” Arthur licked his lips   
“You know what I mean, darling.”

There was a long pause, both men could feel their breath on each others skin.

“I love you Eames.”  
“And I love you Arthur.”

They leaned in at the same time, lips locked in a passionate embraced. Their tongue searched every crevice of eachothers mouth, touching the back of their teeth. Arthurs warm hands reached up and cupped his face, and Eames slipped his hands down his waist. Both men pulled away, their eyes still closed.

“Now,” Arthur breathed, “you said you’d tell me everything.”  
“Of coure kitten.”


End file.
